Winter and a Tree
by Aspect1
Summary: Snow only holds it solidity in the air. Once it hits the ground, it melts or become part of the other snow. Just like them. A tree however, doesn't disappear so instantaneously. It remains in its spot until it dies. Just like them. Oneshot.


**A/N: This was my entry for the random-fandom contest. I didn't win but it was a good experience :3.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

**Enjoy!**

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Winter is harsh, unforgiving and cold. Just like their world, just like the people they are with, just like how they are judged.

* * *

A dark haired girl with chestnut brown eyes stands at a corner and watches a muscular blond boy throw a spear at a dummy. The spear hits the red circle drawn on the dummy and the boy smirks. Clove turns away and returns her attention to the station she was at. She selects a knife from the rack beside her and examines the serrated edge. To test it, she draws a line on the table and is satisfied when she sees the deep line it creates.

The training coordinator for today claps then and calls for everybody to go to the dining hall for dinner. Clove sighs and keeps the knives. She starts to make her way to the dining room but is stopped when someone pulls her back. She bumps into the person's chest and looks up.

"Cato," Clove's voice holds no surprise at all.

"Come with me," he replies gruffly and drags her out of the training academy. Clove complies without a complaint.

The pair find a tree to hide under and they huddle close together for warmth. They watch the snowflakes fall in silence and Clove sneezes when the wind blows slightly stronger than before. In response, Cato pulls her in closer to him and wraps his jacket around her small body. He frowns when he realizes that she is shivering.

"Let's go back in," Cato says.

"Wait, I want to be outside a while more," Clove answers.

"...all right," Cato is clearly unhappy. He knows that if they stay out any longer, Clove will catch a cold.

The air becomes colder as the snowfall becomes heavier. Clove smiles a little and Cato looks at her smile. The smile is brittle. Bittersweetness fills with his heart and his heart pangs.

"Let's go," Cato's tone is firm, allowing no room for anymore negotiations.

Clove agrees this time and she trails behind him, their boots leaving prints in the snow. She watches the imprints of their boots on the snow fade when fresh snow covers it and muses to herself how representative it is of her and Cato's relationship.

"Clove!" Cato calls irritably from the glass doors.

She trudges back to him and empty her boots of melted snow once she enters. Cato taps his foot on the floor as he waits for her and he heads in the direction of the dining hall when she finishes. Clove watches him go before turning and heading back to the training centre. She pauses along the way and gazes out of the window. The heavy snowfalls looks to be on its way to becoming a blizzard but the crystalline beauty was still there. Clove tears her gaze away from it and continues walking down the corridor to the training centre.

Cato enters the dining hall and ignores the looks he gets from people. He goes over to his table where his food is already served. Cato digs in and smirks to himself when he notices how silent the hall had gotten. A training coordinator by the name of Morrigan walks over.

"Cato, where's Clove?" she asks.

"Don't know," Cato answers shortly, his eyes flashing in anger at being interrupted.

Morrigan glares at him and slams her palm down on the table. Cato's plate rattles a little and the hall is now dead silent. "Don't lie!"

"I'm not."

"Give it up," Morrigan's tone is sarcastic. "Everyone knows that you and Clove always sneak out before dinner to have some time alone together. The academy would really appreciate it if you two stop sneaking out. You wouldn't want any unfortunate consequences to happen to her...and both of your families right?"

Cato snaps. He takes his fork and throws it at Morrigan, missing her cheek by a few inches on purpose.

"Leave them alone," he growls. A wild and feral look has entered his eyes, making him look more dangerous than before.

The black haired female pales and moves away while muttering that Cato is nuts. Cato's only reply is to laugh madly and his eyes follow her and he is only satisfied once she sits down and he notices how her body is trembling. He finishes up his dinner and leaves the hall. He doesn't clear his plate, knowing whoever the academy hired would clean it up.

Instead of going back to the training centre where he usually frequents after his dinner, he goes to his room. Cato stays alone and it suits him perfectly fine. No one really wants to share a room with him considering how ruthless he acts towards other people anyway.

Cato enters and shuts the door. He locks it and heads over to his window. He is not one to reflect over the symbolism of things or compare real life events to his own personal life. However, this is different. He looks at the falling snow and recalls Clove's bitter smile. He closes his eyes and sighs, falling back onto the bed. The springs creak a little under his weight. Cato stares at the white ceiling. How he longs to see an actual smile touch Clove's eyes.

He has seen it only once before; when Clove was given a set of throwing knives for her twelfth birthday. Clove ran right to him after she was free from all the birthday wishes and she showed it to him. Cato had congratulated her and ruffled her hair affectionately. She smiled then and it was so radiant and full of happiness it actually stunned him into silence.

After that, even though Clove would still smile, her eyes never quite lit up the same way. The time spent in the academy and the brutality she was put through to make her into an ideal career made her repress that part of her. In the same vein, the same thing happened to Cato. They were born into District Two, made into careers and became the best of the best. All just to bring their district pride and to survive.

Cato opens his eyes after reminiscing and shifts his body so he is lying down on the bed properly instead of having the lower half of his body hanging off it. Cato resumes staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to empty his mind of thoughts about Clove, their relationship and how similar the winter is in regards to them.

Snowflakes melt when they meet with a person's palm. Snowflakes hit the ground and they become part of the snow. Snowflakes are there and not there, here and not here. Just like the two of them. Most people know that Cato and Clove are...close to each other and they can't care less about the people who don't. They are not ones to care about being judged but it is the consequences. They are expected to be strong and that strength comes not only from their physical strength but from being alone as well. The people they are with views strength as this and nothing more. That and the threat of their families' death if they are seen as anything more than just people in the same boat keeps them apart.

In the eyes of outsiders, Cato and Clove are merely the top two careers and they embody heartlessness.

Cato groans and sits up. He stretches and walks to the bathroom. In the end, they have to hide their relationship from other people, convince them that they are really not together and sometimes, the convincing works too well. It really feels like they are just strangers sometimes. The only time they get to be with each other is early mornings and the interlude from the end of training to the start of dinner and even then the timing is really irregular so they end up being late sometimes.

Their relationship exists but at the same time is non-existent to the point Cato doesn't even know what he can call their relationship now. It is just all too confusing. Cato washes his face and wipes it dry on a towel. He wonders if he should sleep but decides to go down to the training centre. Clove might be there as well.

When Cato enters the centre, it is silent except for the constant whizzing of throwing knives slicing the air. He stands at the entrance and watches Clove repeatedly throw her knives without missing a beat. There is a certain deadliness and elegance in her posture. The way her muscles flex as she prepares to throw another knife promises excruciating pain and the hardness of her dark eyes gives off a ruthlessness that she has honed after years of being in the academy.

Cato likes that about her but prefers the smiles she gives him though he cannot help but long for the genuine smile that radiates life. Clove stops and turns around. They face each other and no one speaks. Clove turns around and keeps the knives in the rack. She walks to him and puts her arms around his waist. Cato returns the hugs and leans his chin on top of her head.

"You didn't have dinner, right?" Cato asks.

"...no," Clove answers softly.

"Come up to my room, I'll toss something in the oven for you," Cato smoothes down a tuft of her hair that sticks up and he pats it to make sure it stays down.

"All right," Cato's heart bursts with sweetness when he hears her smile and he mentally chides himself from reacting that way.

Clove laughs lightly when she notices his expression and Cato's frown melts into a gentle smile. They hold hands and walk to the lift. Thankfully, they meet no one on the way. As they wait for the lift to reach the top floor, Cato muses to himself that only Clove can draw this gentle side out of him. Even his family can only see his kind side on very rare occasions. Well, his kind side is really more of a brutish kind.

"Cato, you are coming out right?" Clove's voice is full of mirth. You don't get to see the top male career space out everyday.

Cato gets out of the lift before the door closes in on him and he leads her to his room. Clove settles down on his bed as he rummages through his cabinet to find what little food he had to feed her. He finally comes up with something and shows her a pathetic looking plain bun. Her only reply is to giggle (such a girlish sound that doesn't seem to fit her) and he rips the plastic off and offers it to her.

"I don't suppose you can throw a bun into an oven," Cato says as Clove takes it and bites into it.

She chews slowly and takes her time in swallowing it before replying. "I think you can but you have to wrap it in something to keep it from being burnt?"

The silence that ensues stretches on for a long moment. They both reach a non-verbal agreement that they know nothing about domestic stuff. Clove looks out of the window and notices how the strong and tall tree they were under just now was now bending to the howling wind.

"Look at that tree Cato, it's just like us. It bends to the will of the wind similar to how we bend to the will of the people around us," Clove says, pointing to the trembling tree.

Cato looks at it and nods in agreement.

"Maybe we should run away," he suggests.

"Maybe we could but where would we go? And once we get found out, our families will die," Clove replies, biting off a large chunk of her bread.

Cato falls silent and sits beside Clove. They sit in silence for a while and the only noise is the wind's howl. Clove leans her head on Cato's shoulder and together, they watch the blizzard. Their fingers twine together and the steady rising and falling of their chests match. Clove closes her eyes and listens to Cato's steady breathing. It comforts her and it tells her that yes, Cato is right beside her and he won't leave her. She smiles at the ease she feels.

Cato notices that Clove's breathing has slowed and he glances down at her, careful not to shift too much lest he disturbs her. A rare smile filled with joy graces his lips when he realizes that Clove is sleeping and her lips are upturned very slightly but enough to tell him that she is relaxed and blissful.

He shifts her so that she is lying on his bed. He knows how uncomfortable his shoulder is; Clove had pointed it out several times before. Cato sits on the edge and watches her turn onto her right side and curl up in a fetal position. He knows he should bring her back to her room soon because lights out is approaching but he wants her to stay a little longer.

A few minutes passes by and Cato takes a look at the time. Five minutes more before the coordinators go around and check if everyone is asleep. Cato sighs and rouses Clove.

"Clove, you have to go back."

"Oh..." she rubs her eyes, still groggy. "Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You will," Cato smiles briefly at her but Clove has spent enough time with him to notice how his dark brown eyes soften and so she returns it with one of her own.

She makes her own way out and shuts the door behind her. Cato sighs and drops onto his bed. He groans and sluggishly makes his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth so he can go to sleep. He wonders when winter is ending though it's not like anything would change when it does.

The next morning, the coordinators call for an impromptu meeting with Cato and Clove. It is to discuss the reaping for the 74th Games. They meet the training coordinators and the head of the academy in the dining hall after everyone has left and the adults gather around the two teens.

"Cato Tithe and Clove Lark, you have been selected as the two tributes who will represent our district in the 74th Hunger Games. Do whatever you have to get up onto that stage." Mason, the head of the academy, pauses and then narrows his clear blue eyes. "I trust you know what's best for you."

He turns and leaves the hall, the other coordinators following him. Clove looks at Cato. She says nothing but her eyes tell him everything.

"We'll get out of it alive, together," Cato says firmly.

"It's never been done," Clove answers.

"Then we'll make it happen. We will _not_ be pawns for the Capitol or for our district. Somehow, we will win together. And if we die...we'll still be with each other in the afterlife," Cato bends his head and presses his forehead against Clove's.

Clove nods quickly. She desperately wants to believe him. It is so unlike her to be this desperate in wanting to believe in something that cannot happen but when she is with Cato, it makes her feel like everything is possible. That even the impossible can be made possible.

"We will."

It is an oath but winter has never felt colder.

"Cato, look at that tree."

Clove has no need to point because Cato already knows what she's talking about. He looks at the big, sturdy tree and then looks down at Clove. She smiles at him.

"Let's find a tree like this when we come back," she replies.

"Why not the other trees?" Cato jokes. He already knows the answer why but his eyes still look over the trees in the distance.

"They won't work because they won't be the same. Well, the original tree would be the best but we won't be able to get it back so..." Clove grasps his hand and stops him from walking.

The Peacekeepers behind them jabs their backs with the guns to tell them to keep moving but the couple turn around and give them their deadliest glares. The Peacekeepers stop jabbing them and moves back a few steps to give the two careers some space.

"So let's find an identical one and live another lifetime under it," Cato finishes.

Clove nods. She doesn't look to him and smile because her smile is instead directed at the tree but Cato can tell. His heart suddenly feels like a freshly blossomed flower that has just experienced it's first taste of life. Even if they die, their death will liberate them from these chains. Clove finally looks at him and the soft smile that sits placidly on her lips with her dark eyes lit up and glowing makes him return the smile with a genuine one.

The lifetime they will live under that tree will be a different one but one thing will remain the same and that is being side by side, feeling everything the other does from pain to love to sadness to happiness to despair...everything. Nothing will keep them apart this time.

_"Here is the place where I love you"_


End file.
